


the life we had (won't be ours again)

by bisexual-killian-jones (aelover867)



Series: Captain Guyliner and the Savior [15]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, this is the first in like twenty million because i have been waiting for this since season 3, underworld fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelover867/pseuds/bisexual-killian-jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma gets some help retrieving Killian from the Underworld. But things don't go exactly as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so i posted this on tumblr a few days ago and i got a lot of messages about continuing it. and after coming up with an idea, i decided to do a second part, which will be the second chapter of this. enjoy!
> 
> ps. title is from "never too late" by three days grace

There was a burning pain in Emma’s side, but she continued to march onwards. The sword was heavy in her hand and her lungs were aching from fighting against all of these stupid little minions and lost souls and furies that Hades had been unleashing on her ever since she landed in this Godforsaken realm. But she would do it all over again and again and again if it meant that she would see Killian again and be able to bring him back to the land of the living.

It didn’t take long after Storybrooke Contingent landed in the Underworld to figure out what was going on. After a brief (and strange) encounter with Cora, they headed her warning: _“there are forces at play here beyond your understanding.”_ After Regina relayed the message to the group, Emma knew that maybe Hades wasn’t only a myth. That maybe he was indeed the King of the Underworld and that they would more than likely have to face him to be able to bring Killian back.

But what Emma wasn’t expecting was the endless stream of dead people trying to kill her at every turn and fucking flying _things_ trying to kill her and _what the fuck was her life_ -

“Behind you, Your Majesty.”

Emma twisted around with her sword in the air, just as she saw the black little monster (what the fuck was the Underworld, honestly?) be chopped down with the twist of a saber from her companion.

Ah yes. Captain Liam Jones of the Jewel of the Realm.

At her service, naturally.

“Thanks,” Emma said with a deep breath as they marched closer and closer to the castle Hades apparently had Killian locked up in.

She could only hope the word of Hercules and Meg was trustworthy.

( _God_ , and _Hercules_ had been one of her favorite movies and it was all real? What the hell-)

“It was my pleasure, Your Majesty,” Liam replied, his accent lilting over each letter. She had tried- _tried_ -to get him to stop with the ‘your majestys’ and the ‘your highnesses,’ but it was to no avail. Liam continued to use it since she was royalty after all. “We shouldn’t be much farther.”

“Been there before?” Emma asked nonchalantly, looking up at the looming dark towers and the large bridge they would eventually have to cross. Contrary to how Storybrooke had looked down in the Underworld, the castle looked untouched. The bricks and stones looked as if they had been laid only a day ago, which Emma was positive was not the case. The Underworld was as old as the world itself.

“Aye,” Liam spoke in a tight voice and Emma risked a glance over in his direction, noticing the tightening of his hand on the handle of his sword where it swayed in its scabbard. “Hades like to personally welcome his new guests, especially ones that seem to be famous down here.”

A shiver shot down Emma’s spine at the assumptions Liam’s statement meant. She had to get Killian out of there, no matter what. No matter if she died doing it. He had died for her ( _multiple times_ ) and if she had to die to make sure Killian could be returned to the land of the living, so be it. She would make sure Liam knew it. She would make sure Liam got him out of here and left her behind because she deserved it after everything she did to her family and to _Killian_ -

“Emma?” Liam spoke and she turned her head to look at him, slightly raising her sword in case she had to fight off some more furies or whatever the fuck those things are. But she was met with his worried stare, his eyebrows pulled together and _God_ it hurt how much he looked like Killian. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine-” Emma began stating when suddenly, the clouds above cracked open and a flood of furies came flying straight toward her and Liam. She heard the unsheathing of his sword and a muttered “ _bloody hell_ ” as she held her own sword tightly, remembering that her magic didn’t exactly like to participate in a place where you were supposed to be _dead_ and therefore _not be able to use magic_.

“We should run,” Emma stated, eyeing the distance to the bridge ahead and looking back at the looming crowd of furies that were quickly gaining on them.

“I agree,” Liam replied and without another word, Emma and Liam ran, their shoes scuffing against the dirt road that led up to the bridge.

The batting of the furies’ wings surrounded them, their ears roaring and blood pumping and they were almost there, the cobblestone of the bridge now under their feet. She could see the gate just ahead, wide open as if Hades had been expecting her and Liam (and he probably was). She could hear Liam wheezing beside her, just as he was when she first came across him with the group, being attacked by those little minion monster things.

It had taken her two minutes to bond with the man and five more to determine that they and they alone would go to Hades’ castle to retrieve Killian.

(Man, the grin on his face when he heard that his little brother had fallen in love with an honest-to-God princess.)

They ran and ran and ran, the wound in Emma’s side continuing to burn with every wheeze and with every heavy step against the stone. They were nearly there-only twenty feet or so from the open gates-and she could nearly feel Killian in her grasp. She could almost smell his leather and rum. She could nearly see those blue eyes that she had feared she would never see again.

She would reach him.

She just needed to _believe_.

The furies screeched overhead, announcing their arrival to their future dinners, and Emma and Liam forced themselves to run faster. The gate was coming closer and closer-fifteen feet, ten feet, _five feet_ -and they were suddenly within the gates. Without a word, the gate closed behind them and _yep_ Hades was definitely expecting them.

But as they began walking through the maze of the castle, listening to the screeching of the furies from outside of the castle, nothing came to fight them. Not even one of those little demon things showed themselves to Emma nor Liam. Emma eyed Liam and he glanced back at her, telling Emma that he found that a little suspicious as well. There was just silence, except from the noises of the outside world and the clacking of their shoes against the stone of the castle floors.

Emma could feel in her gut that something was not right.

“Stairs,” Liam spoke and nodded to his left, Emma turning to notice the spiraling stairs that went down. She only assumed that those would lead to the dungeons, so Emma followed Liam down.

Her heart pounded with every step, knowing that she was getting closer to Killian and closer to getting out of this literal Hell. She kept her head even, looking over Liam’s bobbing mop of brown hair, and tried to steady her heart. She would see him again, but she would rather not die of a fucking heart attack before she saw him. That would just make things more complicated than they already were and Emma was not dealing with more complications.

The stairs seemed to go on forever, continuously spiraling downwards as if this was some form of purgatory. Emma heard Liam sigh in front of her and she laughed under her breath because she was sick of Hell and she had only been here for a few days. She couldn’t imagine how it had felt for Liam, who had been here for centuries and was helping his brother’s girlfriend fish said brother’s ass out of the land of the dead.

“Killian better be bloody thankful for this,” Liam muttered under his breath. “I’m too old to be doing this.”

“Figured you wouldn’t feel old,” Emma murmured in response, more for herself.

“After centuries of being dead, you somehow begin to feel it, Your Majesty,” Liam replied and Emma snorted. “Tell me, how did my little brother win over a princess?”

Emma laughed breathlessly. “Well, that’s one hell of a long story. I’ll tell you when we get him and get the hell out of here.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Liam spoke, looking over his shoulder and slyly winking at her.

(Meet the fucking Jones Brothers, everybody.)

Finally, the stairs evened out. Liam immediately moved to the left to allow Emma to step down, firmly standing in the dungeons. She stared out ahead and saw bars on both sides of the seemingly never-ending hallway. They began walking past each cell, noticing that they were all empty. Emma didn’t know why, and it appeared that Liam didn’t know either, as he shrugged when Emma looked over at him. She reached up and grabbed the chain for the necklace that held the ring underneath her shirt, tugging it until she was able to grasp the ring in her hand tightly.

She gripped it as though the ring would lead her straight to Killian.

“He gave you the ring?” Liam asked from her side, staring straight ahead as they continued to wander past the cells.

Emma subtly gulped and glanced over at him for a moment. “Is that a problem?”

“Not in the least, Princess,” Liam replied immediately and Emma wanted to sigh, but it at least wasn’t ‘ _your majesty_ ’ again. “Our mother gave that to me shortly before she died. And then I gave it to Killian just before our voyage to Neverland. I’m not surprised he gave it to someone he loved, being the romantic he was.”

Emma’s heart lurched because no matter how much she knew Killian loved her, it always shocked her to hear it from others. She was sure it would always be like that, forever the lost girl who wasn’t used to hearing that someone loved her and cared for her. But Emma was determined to fight for her happy ending, after fighting for everyone else’s. Dammit, Emma deserved her own happy ending and that’s why she was trudging through the fucking _Underworld_ to get his ass back.

“Yeah well, I love him too and that’s why I’m down here,” Emma told Liam and she didn’t miss the grin that spread across his face as they marched down the hall, eyeing every cell they passed.

And suddenly, after admitting her love to him and gripping that ring tightly in her hand, pain coursed through her. An unbearable, utterly debilitating pain that Emma nearly bent in double from. She gripped a bar from the cell at her right, holding it to keep herself upright as the pain rested in her heart.

“Emma, what’s wrong-”

“It’s Killian,” Emma replied immediately, letting go of the bar and running down the hall. The pain guided her past the endless line of cells. She knew what the pain was-she had read the storybook one too many times and she knew that Killian was in danger and in pain and _she had to find him now_.

(She wasn’t going to think about what the repercussions of the pain were. What that meant for her and Killian. She wouldn’t do that now.)

Liam ran behind her, following her closely as she allowed the pain in her heart to show her where Killian was and she just hoped that she got to him before he was gone.

(Where do you go when you die in the Underworld?)

She ran and ran and ran as her breath came out in pained wheezes, but she would keep running until she found the man that she loved and had him back in her arms, where he was safe and sound. She looked at each cell as she ran by them, hoping for any sign of Killian and the pain continued to grow in her chest. Emma thought it would kill her before she reached Killian, but she pushed through it and continued to run.

And where the pain grew to its strongest, Emma finally saw him.

With that little demon shit’s hand in his chest. (Panic, she faintly recalled his name.)

“Get the fuck away from him!” Emma shouted as she stood at the bars, her heart pounding at the sight of Killian unconscious on the dirty floor.

A smug grin spread across Panic’s teal face, his sharpened fangs stark against the darkness of his skin. “Make me.”

Emma reached forward and suddenly, magic burnt her hand. But no, Emma was much more powerful than a stupid little protection spell on these bars. She continued to reach through, gripping the bar under her hand as she willed her magic outwards. She knew she was not powerful down in Hell, but her magic still followed her will and did as she wished it to. Panic’s eyes grew alarmingly wide as Emma grinned at him, the protection spell shattering around them and Panic disappeared in a swirl of smoke.

Emma threw the door open and collapsed beside Killian as Liam watched the hallway for anybody who was coming for them. She placed her hands on Killian’s cheeks, feeling his clammy skin under her soft hands. She felt a sob building in her throat, fearing that she was too late and that he was gone forever, even from the Underworld.

“Killian, _please_ ,” Emma begged him in a whisper, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Killian, wake up.”

And with her urging, his eyelids fluttered open as he took a deep breath. Emma finally allowed herself to breath for the first time since she ran him through with Excalibur back in Storybrooke. His eyes darted around the cell until they settled on her face, only a foot or so from his as she hovered over him. But where Emma thought there would be joy and happiness on Killian’s face, all she witnessed was the furrowing of his eyebrows in confusion.

“Who are you?” Killian asked quietly.

 _No_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the second part! enjoy!

_He didn’t remember her._

_He didn’t remember her._

_He didn’t remember her._

That was all that ran through Emma’s mind, even though they’ve been back in Storybrooke for two weeks. She refused to give into the itch under her skin that wanted to brush his hair back from his forehead whenever she saw him walking down the street, or when she wanted to curl into his space when he sat in _their_ booth at Granny’s.

( _Their_ booth, which Emma could no longer sit at because _he didn’t remember her_.)

When Liam and Emma returned to the group with Killian in tow, she had to step ahead to warn them of his amnesia. And she could not get the pitying glances out of her mind, the way her mother painfully whispered “oh Emma” or the way Regina looked at the ground as if she felt the pain of not having her true love remember her. Worst of all, Emma couldn’t forget how Henry asked “he doesn’t remember any of us?”

Her kid had lost his father and the man Emma wished would become another father figure did not even remember her son.

Henry did not deserve this pain.

(And after everything Emma had gone through, she had only wished life would give her a break.)

(But life didn’t work that way, she guessed.)

But they got him out alive, through a loophole that somehow Liam knew: a portal that only opened during the full moon after someone who had previously died had returned to the Underworld. Rumple shrugged as if this was his plan all along and that it was all his doing that Killian could return to the land of the living. Everyone rolled their eyes at the same time because no one trusted Rumple, not after his manipulation and returning the darkness to himself and-

And allowing Killian to die when he didn’t need to.

Liam had to be left behind when they all crossed the portal (during this opening, only one soul currently residing in the Underworld return to the land of the living), and listening to his goodbye to Killian was one of the most heartbreaking moments Emma had ever experienced. She wanted to reach out, to pull Killian into her arms and whisper that it would all be okay. But she couldn’t, not without being on the receiving end of a curious stare and furrowed eyebrows.

And when they returned to Storybrooke, through that well in the forest, she could see the uneasiness settling in Killian’s bones. He had left behind the brother that he had missed to join these people he didn’t know. His eyes shot between David and Henry and Robin and _her_ and they were so glaringly empty of any recognition.

Emma marched straight home after that. She did not pass go and she did not collect $200. She just went home and went straight into her bedroom-the very one she should have been sharing with Killian, if life had gone her way.

(It never did.)

<> 

“Emma, why don’t you come over for dinner?” Mary Margaret asked as she held Baby Neal, standing in the living room while Emma relaxed on her couch.

(The very couch Emma had envisioned her cuddling up to Killian on after a long day at work.)

Emma just shook her head, moving the joystick of the controller down the list on Netflix. “I’ve got food here, Mom. I’m fine.”

“Honey, I know you aren’t,” Mary Margaret replied, moving to sit on the armchair across from the couch. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through and I don’t know what to say-”

“Then _stop_ ,” Emma said firmly, not looking over at her mother. She just wanted to be left alone. It had been two weeks since they returned and she just wanted to be _alone_. “Just leave me alone. Please.”

Emma didn’t look over as her mother sighed and stood back up from the chair. And she didn’t look over as Mary Margaret placed Neal back into his stroller and exited the house. And she pretended that her heart didn’t break when the front door clicked shut, telling Emma that she was alone again.

(She would always be alone.)

<> 

The hot chocolate was hot against her tongue, but Emma continued to sip. She read over the newspaper as she sat at the bar at Granny’s, dressed in her red leather jacket and ready for work. There was a quiet morning chatter that filled the restaurant, families sitting together and eating happily and laughing. With every laugh, Emma’s heart twisted. She remembered how she and Killian and Henry would sit together in their booth and talk about their days and laugh at each other’s jokes.

She wanted him back- _oh did she want him back_ -but he did not remember her and he only thought of her as the woman that brought him back to this strange world and he probably hated her for taking him away from his brother-

The bell over the door rang as someone entered the diner. Emma heard the heavy footfall behind her and _God_ she knew those footsteps. She knew how they sounded against the wooden floors of the loft and how her heart would leap into her throat when she would hear them outside of the loft’s door.

“Carry out order for-”

“Killian Jones,” Granny spoke from her place on the other side of the bar, sending a glance over at Emma. “Coming right up.”

Emma kept her nose in her newspaper, refusing to make eye contact with the man she loved who did not remember her. She couldn’t look into those bright blue eyes again and see _nothing_ swimming in their depths-no love, no lust, no admiration. Just _nothing_. She just wanted to sneak out of Granny’s and never return and she should just hole herself up in her house and never leave-

“Are you done with that paper?” She heard his voice ask and her heart leapt because she could nearly pretend that he remembered her.

Emma steeled herself and slowly looked over to her left, seeing him sitting at the bar stool next to hers. And _God_ he looked so himself, his hair windswept over his forehead and his hand firmly in his jacket pocket and his lips slightly upturned and _he was happy_. He was happy and Emma was scum for wishing that he would just remember her and the life that they had together.

(All she wanted was for him to be happy.)

“Yep,” Emma replied smoothly, folding the paper and handing it over to Killian.

But her fingers brushed his as he reached for the paper and his eyes darted to hers as electricity flowed through her veins and _she shouldn’t have even left her house today_. She could feel the tension growing between them and Emma darted her eyes away from his, subtly clearing her throat as she reached for her hot chocolate.

“What’s that you’re drinking?” Killian asked, his voice smooth and unchanged, as if she had imagined the whole thing.

“Hot chocolate with-”

“Cinnamon,” Killian immediately spoke and she could see from the look on his face that he didn’t know where that came from. He didn’t know how he _knew_. “How did I know that?”

Emma gulped because she didn’t even dare tell him about their past, in fear of making him feel guilty about the spell placed over him. All he knew was that David was her father and that Henry was her son and that she had tagged along on this journey to the underworld. He did not know that she had loved him with her entire soul and that she still had nightmares of her running him through with Excalibur.

He did not know that he had loved her back, so strongly and so fiercely that Emma could hardly breathe from the weight of it.

Emma shrugged as she grabbed her things and left the diner without another word. She wouldn’t come back. Her heart couldn’t take it.

<> 

“I made a memory potion for Killian,” Regina spoke as Emma stood in the foyer of the mansion, waiting for Henry as it was Emma’s week to have him.

Emma gulped and looked everywhere but Regina’s eyes. It had been a week since she saw Killian last and every night, she was haunted by the thoughts of his dull eyes and _who are you_ and she could not take it any longer. Her heart lurched, wanting to take the potion from Regina and have the man she loved back, but no. He was better off not remembering what she had done to him.

She would rather have him not remember her than have him hate her for turning him into the Dark One.

“A ‘thank you’ would be appreciated,” Regina stated as she tucked her hands into her blazer’s pockets.

“I don’t want it,” Emma replied, looking over at Regina and meeting her confused stare.

“You what?”

“I don’t want it,” Emma repeated, wishing that Henry would hurry up so she could leave and at least attempt to forget Regina’s pitying glare.

“I figured you would-”

“Well, you figured wrong, Regina,” Emma snapped, her jaw clenched as she shoved her fists into her jacket pockets.

“Well excuse me for trying to help,” Regina replied back just as firmly, her arms now crossed over her chest. “I figured you would want it because all I see are yearning looks whenever Killian is so much as _mentioned_.”

“He’s better off not remembering, Regina,” Emma spoke just under her breath, defeat laced in her tone. “I’d rather him not remember me and be happy than have him remember everything I did to him.”

“You did it to keep him alive-”

“But I still turned him into the Dark One, the thing he hated most,” Emma interrupted Regina, her jaw clenched tightly. “And I had to _kill_ him. Even though he begged me to do it, I can’t imagine he’ll exactly want to see me after he gets his memories back.”

“Emma, you could kill Pongo _on purpose_ and that man would still think you walked on water,” Regina stated obviously.

“It doesn’t matter, Regina,” Emma told her, shaking her head. “He’s happy without those memories. Without remembering he even met me in the Enchanted Forest. I can see why Hades just let him go. He did this to torture _me_ for bringing him back.”

“Then why did you bring him back?”

“Because I couldn’t live in a world where he didn’t exist.”

Regina solemnly nodded her head, as if she understood the pain that Emma was going through. And Emma was sure that she did. Emma was sure that Regina felt anguish over Daniel’s death and for the short period of time he had come back to life. But Regina never had to look into Daniel’s eyes and know that he didn’t know who she was. Regina didn’t have to live with the knowledge that she herself had killed Daniel.

Emma heard Henry stomping down the steps and Emma took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind from the pain that her life had become. She refused to meet Regina’s stare as Henry rounded the steps, coming down the steps so quickly that Emma had a niggling fear that he would trip and fall. But her son landed on the floor just beside where she and Regina stood and he walked to stand beside Emma. She draped her arm over his shoulder and squeezed.

“Ready to go, kid?” Emma asked and Henry nodded, stepping forward to press a kiss to Regina’s cheek and then followed Emma out of the house.

(And as they sat together at the kitchen table, eating the pasta Emma had made for dinner-as she still hadn’t returned to Granny’s-Henry spoke up.

“He knows something went on between the two of you. I can see it in his eyes, Mom. Every time he sees you or hears your name…he just perks up, like his mind is trying to remind him.”

Emma cleared her throat as she stood from her chair and gathered her empty bowl, along with Henry’s. “I didn’t know you were spending so much time with him.”

“He was basically my step-father. Even though he can’t remember me, I remember him. And I’m not giving up. And I don’t think you should either.”

And before Emma could get another word in, Henry left the kitchen table and stomped up the steps. The slamming of his bedroom door echoed throughout the home and Emma just wished things could be easier, simpler. She wanted to have Killian back in her life, but-

But it would hurt, knowing that he didn’t remember the love he had felt for her.

And Emma had to protect herself, even if it meant allowing him to be happy without those memories and slowly rebuilding the walls around her heart.)

<> 

The darkness continued to haunt Emma, a chill deep in her bones and nightmares that would not allow Emma to forget what she had done as the Dark One.

She sat on the same spot where Killian had taken her all those weeks ago, when she was angry with her parents and he simply wanted to show her the sea to calm her down. Emma looked out at the angry, deep blue waves and shook as the cold in the air began to settle in her bones. Her arms, crossed over her chest, gripped her forearms tightly and she silently wished she had grabbed that micro-plush blanket from the couch as she walked out. But Emma hadn’t and now she was shivering in the cold in her thin thermal, long-sleeve shirt and flannel pants.

She listened to the crashing of the ways as Emma tried to breathe evenly, trying to forget the nightmare that plagued her mind. It was the same one that it always was: her killing Killian and watching the light fade from his eyes. Except now that he had returned, the ending transformed into his last words being that he hated her and that he had never loved her and how could he possibly love a woman who could kill him so easily-

A blanket draped over Emma’s shoulders and she jerked, noticing a mass settling to her left. Killian’s profile came into view and Emma turned to look back out at the ocean, not allowing herself to memorize his profile (just as she had so many times before). He sat next to her, his legs dangling beside hers over the dock, and he looked out to the ocean as he sighed deeply.

“The ocean calms you too?” Killian asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Emma subtly cleared her throat and replied, “Yes.”

She noticed from her periphery that Killian glanced over at her, a small smile on his lips, as if he was discovering something new. And he was, as heart-wrenching it was for Emma to realize. _He didn’t remember_.

“I saw you,” Killian began saying, and then cleared his throat and Emma’s heart grew heavy because _she could not do this_. “I saw you coming down here, from the deck of my boat, and I thought you’d get cold. So I thought it’d be a nice gesture to bring you a blanket, seeing as you haven’t quite warmed up to me.”

Emma clenched her jaw to keep herself from telling him just how much she had warmed up to him before his death, before the trek to the Underworld and before his amnesia set in. “Why do you say that?”

“You run in the opposite direction whenever you see me, love. It wasn’t too hard to discern. I can be quite perceptive,” Killian replied, as if it was a known fact. But Emma’s heart twisted because she remembered when he used those very words with her and _she shouldn’t have come here._

She should’ve gone to the woods or walked through town or just stayed in her house. Emma shouldn’t have chosen to go to the docks because she knew Killian lived aboard the Jolly Roger. She tempted fate and fate had spit back in her face by having Killian be a gentleman and wanting to give her a blanket on this cold night.

“Why were you up?” Emma quickly asked, trying to silence her mind. “You said you saw me when you were on your deck, but why were you up?”

Emma turned her head to look at Killian and noticed his Adam’s apple bob, gulping back the knot in his throat. She forced her thoughts to remain at least somewhat decent as Killian stared out at the sea.

“Just a strange dream,” He replied, his eyes darting over the waves.

“What happened?” Emma asked quietly, before she could stop herself.

And Killian looked over at her, his piercing blue eyes staring at her through the dark night. He looked conflicted, his eyes darting between Emma’s and his jaw slightly clenched. Emma remembered how it was during the year in New York when she didn’t remember her family or Storybrooke or him. She remembered how she had dreams every night of a family that loved her and a dark-haired man who pined after her.

Emma could only imagine what he was dreaming of, but she still wanted to hear it.

(She was a damn masochist.)

“You were there,” Killian whispered, so quietly that Emma nearly didn’t catch it over the crashing of the waves. “And we were…climbing this giant beanstalk.”

Emma wanted to look away, to escape the intensity of his eyes as he recalled the moment that everything had changed between them. But she couldn’t. No-she had missed _this_ , the simple talking and being in each other’s company. And she just…she needed to know what he remembered.

“And I asked you if you had ever been in love. And you said that you hadn’t.”

Emma wanted to speak, to tell him that it was just a silly dream and that he shouldn’t think much of it. But she knew he wouldn’t believe her. She could see that he was looking for answers and that these dreams were giving them to him.

“There was more that happened between us than you originally let on, wasn’t there?” Killian asked, his head slightly leaning toward Emma’s. “You told me that you were only Henry’s mother and the daughter of David and Mary Margaret. But there was more to it. I can tell. I can see it every time you look at me and every time you run away from me. Something happened between us.”

“Killian-”

“Emma, _please_ ,” Killian pleaded, his eyes shining in the moonlight and she swore she could see the tears swimming in their depths. “I just want answers. I want to know why this place feels like home even when I left my brother behind. I want to know why I’m no longer angry at the bloody crocodile because the last thing I remember was me being absolutely wrapped up in my revenge. I want to know why every time I look at you, my heart leaps into my throat and I get this itch under my skin, as if I’m supposed to be touching you. Like it was something I was always meant to do.”

Emma’s eyes slid shut as a tear slipped onto her cheek. Killian’s callused hand cupped her cheek and Emma slowly opened her eyes again to find him swiping the tear away with his thumb. It felt so _them_ that it stabbed Emma right through the heart because _he didn’t remember her_.

“I want to know why I feel as though Henry is my own son and why whenever I’m not around your family, I can feel a hole in my heart. I want to know why whenever I hear your name simply mentioned, my entire world flips. I just want answers, Emma, because I don’t want to live like this anymore, not knowing what the bloody hell happened to me.”

Emma shook her head in Killian’s hand, her hand reaching up and gripping his wrist. “If you remembered, you would hate me. You wouldn’t be able to look at me without anger and hatred and I can’t do that to you.”

( _I can’t do that to myself_.)

“I have to go,” Emma spoke hurriedly, swinging her legs back onto the dock and walking away without hearing another word from Killian.

(And if-for once-she allowed herself to wrap up in the blanket she forgot to return to Killian and just cry as she laid in bed, she would keep it to herself.)

<> 

Emma spent the next week avoiding the docks and continued to avoid Granny’s. She took all shifts her father needed her to take and Granny had started delivering her food personally to Emma as she slaved over reports at her desk. Emma ignored the glares Granny shot her whenever Granny dropped off her regular grilled cheese with onion rings, continuing to type away on her computer until the words and letters began to blend together.

Emma would work and work and work until she grew exhausted, then would pass out as soon as she returned to her bed at home. With this routine, she was not able to constantly think about her time with Killian at the docks and the memories he was rediscovering and how she was in physical pain every moment she wasn’t with him. Every time her parents or Regina or even Henry mentioned Killian, she would quickly change the subject. She avoided any mention of him because her heart and mind couldn’t take it anymore.

She thought it’d be easier to have him be happy and not remember the horrors she committed against him. But it turned out that it still hurt her more than anything because _he didn’t remember her_.

(She was beginning to think that it may be better to have him remember her, but hate her, than to continue to face this.)

But Emma couldn’t continue on this routine for long and David forced her to take a day off. _Watch some Netflix or take a nap_ , he spoke as he led her out of the station into the pouring rain, _just don’t be here today_.

And that’s how Emma found herself eating a pint of ice cream as she watched _Anastasia_ for the twenty-millionth time on Netflix. As she watched Anastasia and Dmitri fall in love, after Anastasia couldn’t remember any of her life and was slowly reminded of who she was, Emma dropped the now empty ice cream carton on the coffee table beside her and groaned loudly.

She couldn’t even watch one of her favorite movies without being reminded of Killian.

The rain continued to patter against the windows as the end credits rolled after the movie. Emma turned her head to look out the gap of the curtains, watching the downpour outside. It was strange how the weather reflected her mood-stormy and dark and looking as if nothing will be right again. The darkness outside reminded her of her time in the Underworld, before she found Killian and everything had been flipped upside down. Dark and dreary and filled with fear that she wouldn’t be able to rescue him.

But Emma did, even if he didn’t remember her. Even if he never remembered the love she had- _has_ -for him, she would never regret bringing him back.

There was a gentle knocking on her door and Emma furrowed her eyebrows as she sat up on the couch. It was early in the day-only 10:30 in the morning-and everyone she knew would be either at work or in school. At least Henry better be in school, or else Emma would raise hell when he came home. She stood from the couch and padded across the hardwood flooring, wondering if it was Regina for some unknown reason.

(Emma swore if it was Regina and she decided to try to talk Emma into giving Killian that memory potion, she was going to _scream_ -)

But it wasn’t Regina when Emma opened the door, nor Henry, nor David dropping off food.

It was Killian, completely drenched from the rain and standing on her front porch. Her heart pounded when she met his eyes, his eyes in stark contrast to his wet and floppy hair that had fallen across his forehead. Emma itched to push it back, but she restrained herself.

“Kill-”

“Why did you bring me back?” Killian asked quickly, his hand in his jacket pocket.

Emma tilted her head slightly as her eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Why did you bring me back from the Underworld?” Killian repeated, his jaw clenching and _was he angry with her_?

“You don’t remember anything more?” Emma asked, her hand releasing the door to cross her arms over her chest.

“I remember you running me through with a sword,” Killian spat out and Emma’s heart froze. “It seems a little strange to me that the woman who apparently hated me enough to _kill_ me decided to go rescue my arse from Hell. But since I won’t get any answers from you, I’ll go look for them elsewhere.”

Killian turned away from her, his shoulders rigid as he began to walk back down her porch steps and back into the pouring rain. She had to stop him. She had to _explain_.

“Killian, wait,” Emma called and she ran out into the rain, following him onto the walkway that led to her white picket fence. He turned around and his eyes were blazing with anger as the rain pounded on them. “I didn’t kill you because I wanted to. Trust me. I didn’t want to do it, but you _begged_ me to do it. And it was the hardest thing I had ever done.”

“So you came to the Underworld to fetch me because you felt _guilty_?” Killian asked, leaning forward slightly.

“No,” Emma replied immediately, tucking her now soaking wet hair behind her ear. “No, I rescued you because you sacrificed yourself to save all of us. You sacrificed yourself to get rid of the darkness once and for all. You sacrificed yourself and you prevented my entire family from being dragged into the Underworld and suffering a fate worse than death. You _saved_ all of us, Killian, and you died a hero’s death.”

Killian leaned back again, as if he was _astonished_ that Emma called him a hero. “I am no hero, Swan. All I’ve ever been was a pirate and that’s all I’ll ever be.”

“But that’s not true,” Emma spoke, stepping forward a tiny step on the wet concrete below her bare feet. She blinked away the rain that fell into her eyes as she looked at Killian’s shocked face. “Killian, you were right when you thought that there was more that happened between us. I’ve seen you grow from the vengeful pirate you remember into the man that helped me save my son and into the _hero_ you died as.”

“What else happened between us?” Killian asked in a whisper, barely loud enough to be heard over the pounding rain. “Because…I’ve had dreams that I must say are rather indecent to have about a woman I hardly know.”

Emma slowly gulped as her face began to burn. She tried to find some way to respond, but a knot grew in her throat because she could easily tell him-say that they were in love and that he was her True Love-but she still feared the moment he remembered it all and resented her.

“And these dreams didn’t feel like dreams, Emma,” Killian continued, stepping forward and his shoes brushed Emma’s wet bare toes. “These dreams…they felt _real_. As if I was the one who was causing you to moan and gasp in pleasure. As if I was the one who you yearned to be with. These dreams…they felt like real memories from this life I cannot remember. Please, Emma, tell me. Help me remember this life.”

Emma bit down on the inside of her cheek and tried to get her hands to stop shaking. The rain continued to fall all around them and Emma’s shirt and leggings were nearly soaked through, but she found that she didn’t want to leave Killian, even if this was something she had been avoiding for the past three months. Emma was tired- _so tired_ -of keeping everything a secret from him. Even if he didn’t remember her, Emma just had to tell him. He had to know.

“Do you want to know why it was so hard for me to kill you, even when you begged me to do it?” Emma asked quietly, ignoring the rain that dripped down her face. Killian nodded solemnly and Emma took a deep breath. “Because even though you said that I had to do it, to allow you to become the man you wanted to me, I didn’t want to do it because I didn’t want to kill the man that I loved-the man that I still love, even though he doesn’t remember me.”

“Emma-”

“I had lost _everyone_ in my life, either from abandonment or death, and I didn’t want to lose you,” Emma continued, her jaw clenched as she felt tears beginning to form behind her eyes. “But you wanted me to kill you to destroy the darkness and I did it. And I watched the light fade from your eyes and I cried over your dead body as you were being wheeled away and I had lost another person that I loved. And when the opportunity came up, I was not going to say no. I was going to go to the Underworld and bring back the man that I loved and who loved me and Henry and I was not going to rest until I found you-”

And suddenly, Killian’s lips were against hers, his hand cupping her cheek as his tongue slid across her bottom lip. Emma gasped and gripped his upper arms, pressing herself fully against him as her heart pounded against her ribs. Everything felt right again, with Killian’s stubble scratching her face as he tilted his head to dip his tongue into the cavern of her mouth. She moaned and there was an answering groan from Killian, his fingers tangling at the nape of Emma’s wet hair.

And suddenly, Killian’s lips froze against hers in a gasp. Emma pulled away to see his eyes wide, darting around as if he was witnessing something. Emma’s hands moved up to cup Killian’s face and she urgently whispered “ _Killian_.”

And his eyes refocused on Emma’s and not a moment later, his lips returned to hers as he repeated the words Emma had wanted to hear for the past three months.

“ _Gods, Emma. I have missed you_.”

<> 

And when they entered Granny’s hand-in-hand that night for the family dinner, Mary Margaret began crying while David and Henry stood from their spots around the table and hugged Emma and Killian. And Regina allowed a smile to spread across her face while Robin bent to whisper into her ear.

“ _About time, I must say_.”

Emma looked up at Killian and he looked back at her with a wide smile and for the first time since they returned from the Underworld, Emma felt truly happy.

Just as life was back to the way it should be, with the love of her life and her son and her family at her side.


End file.
